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I haven't been answering email. I haven't been planning things. Doing them, yes: I'm going to work and getting stuff done, even cooking dinner, all that good stuff.
And in between I play computer games. Over and over. Killed by a gnome, again. Shrug. Restart. Is it really bedtime already?
I thought I was okay--that's what I told a friend, when she asked, because I hadn't returned her phone call or her email. But I'm not. There's too much gray, and it isn't just the sky.
What I'm lacking is impetus. If someone says "Let's go to a movie," I'll go, and have a good time. And if nobody says anything, I'll just muddle through.
This would be okay if I were muddling through the life I like to fall into. If I were getting to the gym three times a week, reading a few books, walking in the park, and writing, I would be satisfied. There's nothing wrong with habits.
But I'm in the wrong rut. I'm stuck on a local line to Podunk, when I want to be going to Paris or at least Philadelphia. And I don't know where the switches are, or when I lost the map. At least the cats are still on my railway train.
And in between I play computer games. Over and over. Killed by a gnome, again. Shrug. Restart. Is it really bedtime already?
I thought I was okay--that's what I told a friend, when she asked, because I hadn't returned her phone call or her email. But I'm not. There's too much gray, and it isn't just the sky.
What I'm lacking is impetus. If someone says "Let's go to a movie," I'll go, and have a good time. And if nobody says anything, I'll just muddle through.
This would be okay if I were muddling through the life I like to fall into. If I were getting to the gym three times a week, reading a few books, walking in the park, and writing, I would be satisfied. There's nothing wrong with habits.
But I'm in the wrong rut. I'm stuck on a local line to Podunk, when I want to be going to Paris or at least Philadelphia. And I don't know where the switches are, or when I lost the map. At least the cats are still on my railway train.